Deserted Memoirs of a Hero
by BrainyPyscho
Summary: Drake Potter is the black sheep of his family because he is like his greatgreat uncle Harry. He knows nothing of his uncle until one day he finds the diaries of said uncle as well as letters and pcitures of an from Harry and his lover. Who were these two
1. Chapter 1

_Authors Notes: I've been wanting to do one of these for ages and be warned it might seem a bit AU but that is the way it has to be. So I hope you like it._

_Warnings: Mentions of SLASH, swearing._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing apart from everything you don't recognise._

**_Deserted Memoirs of a Hero_**

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"_Sometimes the greatest of Heroes are the biggest of liars!"_

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Drake Potter stared out at the passing scenery, which blurred together. He sighed sadly as he thought about all the friends he was leaving behind to move here. Yes he still had his friends at school but he also had friends living in the close he lived on. Now though he was moving to some stuck up area just because he was different. He didn't fit in with his family and his mother blamed his friends. The reason? Drake Potter was gay. That's right he fancied men not women. His mother never liked that. She wanted him to grow up and marry. Give her lots of grandchildren she said. He shook his head. He remembered what else she had said.

"You're just like your great-great uncle Harry," she had sneered when he had told her. Drake didn't know much about his uncle. In fact Drake hardly knew anything about his uncle apart from the fact that he wasn't really his uncle but more of his great-great grandfather instead. Harry Potter had been the surrogate father for a woman who was asexual. He hadn't slept with her he just did a procedure for her to get pregnant without having to have sex. In thanks the woman had gave her son his surname carrying on the Potter legacy. Apart from that Drake knew nothing. His mother and grandparents never really talked about him. Harry had once got the courage to ask his great grandfather about him but only got an ear lashing in return.

"Why do you want to talk about that deserter for? He ran out on my mother and me so he does not deserve to be thought about. Yes I still carry his name as do all my family but that is all I wish to carry of his," his great grandfather had said in his rough aging voice before returning back to his potion.

Drake sighed again as he thought about the enigma and most hated person in his family. He knew nothing about him apart from his name and that he was gay. He wanted to know more but he didn't and now, because he was like him, he had to move in with his grandmother who had lost her husband a few years back.

"We're here Drake. Doesn't it just look wonderful? The perfect place to start again," his mother broke through his thoughts and he frowned slightly. He could just hear her saying that it was a new start for him to become straight. He shook his head before properly looking at the place they were now living. He hated it already. The area was so tidy, the lawns were manicured. The houses were larger then anything he had ever seen.

"It's looks like a place where those stuck up toffs live," he sneered thinking back to his old enemy and his friend's enemy. They were all well spoken and wore expensive clothes. They were always taking the piss out of Drake and his friends because of the fact they came from a close instead of an avenue.

"Drake don't you be like that. We will be living here and you will like it do you understand?" His mother replied narrowing her eyes at him and he nodded looking down. She got out of the car and he followed her lead looking over at his new home, and he knew he already that he would hate it. The house was the largest on the street with large oak trees, and a large iron wrought gate surrounding the area. The mansion, which looked more like a palace, seemed to have gone down hill. It looked like it would have been beautiful years back, but years of neglect from only an old couple living in it seemed to have done it's damage. He sighed. His family was a bunch of hypocrites. They didn't like his great-great uncle Harry but here they were living in his house. The place he used to live in before he 'deserted' them as his great grandfather used to say.

"Drake my boy it's so good to see you," came the loud boisterous voice that belonged to his grandmother who was 100 years old. Though most would expect her to look her age she looked a lot younger due to the magic singing in her veins. He looked up weakly and braced himself when he felt her hug him, nearly crushing the breath out of his lungs. When she set him down she pinched his cheeks roughly.

"And how's my favourite grandson doing? Any girlfriends?" she asked smiling.

"No mum he's like Great uncle Harry," his mother spoke up from behind him. He expected to see his Gran flinch and have disgust shining in her eyes like everyone else usually did but instead she smiled widely.

"Good I was starting to get worried. Now there will be a bit of excitement in this family for a change instead of a bunch of boring old farts," his grandmother said and Drake nearly burst out laughing just seeing his mother's indignant face as she spluttered to respond.

"Yes well. Drake go and get your things and take them up to your room," his mother said seemingly forgetting that this was the first time he had ever been here.

"Go up the main staircase and go to the right. It's the fourth door with the snake emblem on the door. It was your great-great uncle Harry's room when he used to stay here," his grandmother said. Drake looked at her sharply. He was going to be staying in _the_ Harry Potter's room. He grinned quickly going to the boot of the car and grabbing his stuff. He pulled out his trunk and then his backpack and he tried to drag his trunk to the house before hearing his grandmother's loud laugh.

"What are you a muggle?" she said laughing.

"What do you mean?" Drake replied frowning.

"You are a wizard my boy do use it," came her answer as she continued to chuckle.

"He can't mother he is only sixteen not yet of age," his mother replied snottily.

"Oh fine here," his grandmother said waving her wand at Drake's trunk and shrinking it so he placed it in his pocket before walking into the mansion. His mouth dropped. The entrance hall was so large his old house could have fit twice over in it. Yet instead of feeling regal or like all the other wizarding mansions it was distinctly muggle and modern with electric lights and a telephone. He could actually hear the voice of a radio 1 presenter coming from another room. He smiled shaking his head as he walked up the grand staircase that seemed double the width of a normal sized staircase. He looked around at the pictures lining the walls. None of them were moving like wizarding portraits. They were all distinctly muggle. He truly did love his grandmother over the rest of his family. She was the one who didn't care about what a person was and she loved muggle things making him fit in with her perfectly. He sighed as continued on down the hall soon finding the door that had the snake emblem on it. He took a deep breath readying himself and he pushed it open.

The first thing that hit him was the fact that it looked exactly like it would have the hundred odd years ago his great-great uncle would still be alive. Instead of a hologram pod for the television so you could see everything 3D you had an old box television, which Drake knew he would have fun trying to work. On the desk was an old fashioned phone that didn't have a little LED screen so you could talk face to face with people and the bed was just a plain bed with no special mattress that fitted to your body shape so you got perfect absorption. He smiled just thinking that his great-great uncle Harry used to sleep here. Used to watch this very television, used to speak into this very phone. He just couldn't believe it. He put his stuff down and wanted to try and find a way to un-shrink his trunk but it seemed his grandmother must have thought of that as it automatically went back to it's normal size. He placed it at the bottom of his bed before looking around. The room was cleaned perfectly and nothing was out of place, but Drake could still tell no one had slept here since great-great uncle Harry had. He walked to the desk and sat down on the chair just imagining his uncle doing the very same thing. He looked out of the window at the large, extensive grounds.

His hand felt over the dark, oak desk and he frowned slightly as he felt a dent in the desk. He looked down. What was that dent? He moved the parchment that was still on the desk shaking his head, they really were primitive back then and his eyes widened when he saw that it was a little doodle engraved into the wood crudely by what looked to be a knife. "_**HP 4 BA"**_. Drake knew the first initials belonged to his great-great uncle but he didn't know whom the other initials were for. He smiled though. It was like sitting at an examination desk where everyone else had written about whom they fancied and who loved whom. It was like this had been engraved just weeks before by another teenager and Drake closed his eyes just imagining what his great-great uncle used to look like when he was his age. He couldn't though. No one ever talked about what the great deserter used to look like. In fact whenever he was mentioned the family just shut up. Drake knew he was going to have to ask his grandmother about his uncle, as she seemed to be the only one who didn't care.

"Drake, come on down," his mother shouted up the stairs, her voice echoing through the large spacious halls. Drake stood up and gave one last look at the room he was to be staying in before walking down the stairs towards his mother who was standing there looking impatient.

"Yes mum?" he asked.

"I'm going back to our old house to sort things out. I will be back in a week. I don't want you to get in trouble do you understand?" she said sternly and he nodded his head bowed.

"Yes mum."

"Good I do not want to hear from your grandmother that she has had to run after you. You will look after yourself like I taught you," she said narrowing her eyes slightly at him, as if to find if he was lying.

"Mary leave the boy alone. We'll be fine," his grandmother said coming up behind her.

"But mum!"

"No buts Mary. We'll be fine now go," his grandmother said. Drake inwardly sniggered seeing his mother so cowed. She nodded before giving him a kiss on the cheek and walking out of the house and to her car. He sighed as his grandmother shut the door.

"Drake, I'm going to be busy most of this week but I'm giving you free reign of this place so you can go wherever you want just not in my room ok, the ground keepers hut is sure to be an interesting find?" his grandmother said winking at him. He nodded smiling slightly and she quickly walked past him grabbing her coat and then turned. She walked to the door and had disappeared.

"Well thanks for telling me you were going," he mumbled as he looked at the empty hall in front of him. What was he going to do in this time? He shrugged maybe he should explore so he doesn't get lost.

He did that and started to wander around the back garden. It was humungous with a large forest, a lake and even a large 50-acre field. He sighed as he walked to the forest. He would look around there first maybe he would find the groundkeepers hut.

He walked towards the forest his head bent back as he looked up at the cloudy sky. Even though it was august he knew that it would rain later. He hoped he didn't get caught out in it. He walked through the forest. Sorely reminded of the forbidden forest back in Hogwarts. He swallowed thickly missing his friends. He couldn't think about that now he had to explore. He climbed over fallen logs and continually watched his feet not wanting to trip. The trees were tall, their canopy completely blocking out the sun. Drake was sorely tempted to just turn and return back to the house but he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. He walked further and further into the forest that seemed to have no end. He started to think that maybe the groundkeepers hut was nowhere near here as he pushed through a large bush but then stopped short. There in front of him was a large, stone building half covered by ivy. He had found it! He excitedly walked towards the hut smiling just thinking about what he would find. He took hold of the rusting door handle and pushed. The door creaked open showing it's age and Drake walked in. He was severely disappointed as he took in his surroundings. There was nothing interesting here. Just cobwebs and dust. He walked in the door shutting it behind him as he looked around. He spotted, over by one wall, a double bed that was moth eaten and rotting; he also spotted a large leather chair that whilst old, still seemed in good condition. He turned; ready to go when something caught his eye an old trunk that looked just like a Hogwarts trunk.

His excitement returned full force as he walked towards it. His heavy boots making footprints in the layers of dust. He soon came to the trunk and knelt down wiping a hand across the top of it. He grimaced when he saw how dirty his hand became and he wiped it on his jeans. He looked back to the top of the trunk and gasped. Two words were emblazoned across the top. **Harry Potter**.

He smiled widely. He had found something that belonged to the one person in this family that was just like him. He looked at the lock, which was still fastened in place and sighed. He wouldn't be able to get in. For some odd reason he had the sudden urge to look at the back of the trunk and when he did he smirked. The straps connecting the top to the bottom were severely worn and seemed to have been eaten. He dragged the trunk out of the corner and yanked at the top until the straps broke.

He threw the top to the ground before looking at the contents. His eyes widened as he saw books, and moving portraits, cloaks and spare parchment. All this belonged to his great-great uncle. He grinned as he started to sort through the items. He pulled out a newspaper cutting that was very weathered and the crease lines from it being refolded many a time was prominent. He gasped the guy in the photo that seemed morose, cold and calculating looked exactly like him except for the fact that he didn't wear glasses, but the guy in the picture did. The other guy in the photo though had his arm around Harry and looked more serious, colder and even more deadly then the other. Drake started to read the article.

_Boy-Who-Lived comes out!_

_By Daria Hariate_

_The Boy-Who-Lived A.K.A Harry Potter has finally come out about being gay. He was due to come to the celebration of him finally defeating You-Know-Who, when he came out of the closet as muggles say. He was to receive the most prestigious award a wizard or witch could get. The order of Merlin, first class._

_He had fought in the great battle, which would go down in history as the make or break of the wizarding world. Harry Potter saved the wizarding world putting him in the spotlight once again. Many lives were lost and even Mr Potter was injured severely losing control of his left arm._

_The minister of magic Cornelius Fudge said; "I am very honoured to be able to present this award to Mr Potter. He has fought long and hard for our freedom. He and the rest of the wizarding community has lost many friends, family and loved ones. Yet no matter how many lives lost Mr Potter stood back up and fought harder then ever. He is a true hero." _

_Yes indeed Mr Potter is a true hero yet a secretive one. When arriving to the ceremony Mr Potter turned up in a Porsche (a car which is very expensive in the muggle world) driven by another male. When getting out of the car many expected the other male to drive off but he didn't. He parked and then stood beside Mr Potter. What happened next shocked everyone. The male kissed Mr Potter on the cheek before wrapping a possessive like arm around Mr Potter's waist. When asked who this male was, Mr Potter replied with this statement;_

"_His name is Blake Aloysius and he is my best friend, my confident, my lover and my soul mate."_

_Many a woman could see the love between these two but the fact remains Mr Potter is gay and had not told anyone about the other male._

"_I did not tell anybody because it was none of their concern. My private life is exactly that. Private. I did not wish at the time for people to know about Blake especially Voldemort. I was fighting a war, one that if Blake were known would have surely gotten him killed. I would not risk the chance of my soul mate being killed," Mr Potter replied when asked why he kept it secret. _

_He answered no more questions but the fact remains that the hero of the wizarding world is gay; he has lied to his friends and family. Is that how a hero is supposed to act? In many people's opinion it was selfish of Mr Potter to only think of himself and Blake and not the rest of the wizarding world._

Drake stopped reading seething in anger. The press had blatantly stated thatbecause his great-great uncle had kept his lover secret to save his life, he was selfish. He could not get over that fact. Now though he had a picture of his great-great uncle. He now knew who the other initials were. He had heard about Lord Voldemort of course. The darkest wizard ever who was defeated by a hero called the boy-who-lived though no other name was ever put with this title. Many had thought that this battle was a legend due to there being no names but now Drake knew better. He was related to a hero. He was even more excited now he couldn't wait to read more. He went back to the trunk and pulled out some more pictures of his uncle. Most of them were when he was young and with his friends Drake supposed, one though caught his eye. It had his uncle in it but also the other male who Drake knew as Blake.

What caught his eye was the fact that this very mansion was right behind them. Harry was standing in front of Blake who had his arms wrapped around Harry's waist. One hand sneaking under his shirt and Harry was laughing. It seemed to be summer and blossom was flying all around them. It looked beautiful and one could see how happy they both were. Drake put the photo down before picking out a large book that was a journal.

He opened it and his eyes widened.

_This book belongs to:_

_Harry James Potter_

_1996_

He breathed in the smell of aging paper and smiled as he turned the first page, seeing the small yet untidy scrawl. He started to read.

_Dear Diary, _

_Why am I writing a diary now of all times? Why at fifteen, nearly sixteen, years of age do I feel the need to spill my deepest thoughts, desires and nightmares into a book? What if it falls into Voldemort's hands? What if my friends find it and decide to read it? Oh fuck it. I don't care. I need to write my feelings down. Hell I need a way to release all my pent up anger and writing is the safest way to do it. I need a place to be me, Harry Potter. Not the boy-who-lived. Not the best seeker in the century. Not the boy who's going to have to kill or be killed by Voldemort. Here in this diary I can be me. The boy who's afraid of dying. The boy who's confused. The boy no one wants to be. If I don't write down these feelings or get rid of them somehow they will consume me. _

_I look around at all the boys in my dorm. There's Seamus who flirts like anyone's business but can be very judgemental. Then there's Dean, the west ham addict yet the artist of the group. I can see Neville playing with his plant, what it is, I have no idea. I'm no herbologist. Then beside me is Ron. My best mate. Yet if he's my best mate why do I feel so far from him, why do I feel as if there's a great gap between us that we can't overcome? In fact I feel like that with all the boys in my dorm. I used to belong here. I used to fit in and just be one of the guys but now that Voldemort is back, now that I am back to being worshipped as a goddamn hero it just isn't the same. I can see it when they look at me. No matter we have been friends since we were eleven. I can see in their eyes that they think they are inferior to me or that they shouldn't be seen with me because I can get them killed. They're right and sometimes I welcome the gap between us. Maybe this way I can keep them safe. _

_Ron's the worst though he tries to hide what he's feeling, behind laughter and smiles. But I know how he's feeling. We fought together along with some more friends in the department of mysteries. We all lost something in that fight. I feel as if I lost the most. I lost my confidence, I lost my childhood innocence, I lost my optimism, I lost my sense of right and wrong, but most of all I lost the most important person in my life. I lost my godfather Sirius Black. I had to watch as his bitch of a cousin cursed him. I had to watch as his body curved, the laughter dying on his lips as he fell through the veil. I miss him. I want him back here to tell me everything will be all right. To call me kiddo one last time and laugh and joke. I know that it won't happen though. I've lost everything and because of that I'm classed as a hero._

_I was possessed that day also. I felt as Voldemort took me over. The pain was unbearable. I don't want have to go through that again but I know I will. I know that when I face Voldemort I will face this pain and then some, I know that I will die. To my friends I act optimistic. I act as if I know I'm going to win. As if I'm not afraid to die and fight but I am. I'm terrified. I don't want to fight. I don't want to die. I want to be like everyone else and be able to hide. To be able to put the pressure on somebody else's shoulders. I don't want to have to lose the people who are close to me again. I want to be able to be a coward and just run away but I can't. I wouldn't be able to stand it knowing that I had left people to face Voldemort alone. To be killed. I would have left people to die. I wouldn't be able to handle that so I have to fight. I will have to step up to Voldemort and kill him. At the minute though I am not strong enough and I know I will die quickly if I face him now. I have to train. I have to learn how to hide my emotions. I have to learn to be like a Slytherin and be cold and calculating. I have to grow up._

_Already it seems that my diary is as sombre as me, as morose as me but I have to write this down. I have to find a way to release all these feelings building up inside of me. I can't talk to my friends. They wouldn't understand. I can just imagine Hermione looking at me sadly, "Harry you are a powerful wizard if anyone can win it's you," I can just imagine her saying. I know I would then smile and agree before turning and feeling more alone then before. It seems that the only way I can get my feelings out is by writing in a damn book. If that is the way it must be then that's the way it must be._

_It is now three in the morning and I know I must get some sleep. _

_Harry Potter_

Drake sat there closing the book after reading that entry. His great-great uncle was only sixteen and he had to go through all that. He had lost his godfather. He shook his head. His admiration for his uncle growing by the second. He smiled knowing that he was closer to his uncle now, or he felt like he was. He was enthralled he wanted to continue to read on but it was raining and getting darker. He knew that he couldn't stay any longer. He grabbed a cloak from the trunk as well as the journal with one other placing them in the cloak. He also grabbed a few more newspaper cuttings and then some things that seemed like letters as well as some more photos. He covered them all with the cloak before running out of the door. He ran through the forest making sure he didn't slip which was hard in the torrential rain that had seemed to start and he soon made it back to the mansion. He was soaking wet, his hair sticking to his face, which was streaming. He walked up to his room. He grabbed some clothes before going into the ensuite bathroom, which had appeared. He got changed before slipping under the covers of his bed opening the diary once more. He was wondering what he would read next.

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_Authors Notes: Please review it would really cheer me up and make me want to write more!_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Authors Note: -ducks flying objects- yes it's been months and I have no excuse apart from writers block. I'm not entirely happy with this chapter most probably because I have a blinding headache and also this has been haunting me for months but I hope you like it. The next one shouldn't be as long but hell I have no idea what real life will cook up for me next. Thank you for your reviews. Here's the next chapter.**_

**_Warnings: Slash, some swearing._**

**_Disclaimer: I own the world is that ok? Ok for legal reasons I do not own Harry Potter or anything in relation to J.K Rowlings world however I do own Drake, Blake, the plot and the mansion (alas only in my dreams) and everything else you don't recognise. Toodles_**

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**_Deserted Memoirs Ofa Hero_**

**_Chapter 2:_**

_Dear Diary;_

_I'm writing yet again at night, hiding beneath my duvet, my wand lit. Why am I afraid to write in this during the day? Why must I always write at night when there is no chance of people seeing me? That's just it. That is the answer. So people don't see me. If they saw me writing in a book it would gather many unwanted questions, something I don't want to have to face. Yes I know me being a coward again, but I should be able to act like one sometimes, and it's this as well as speaking to girls. I'm telling you they are like wolves. They hang around in large groups and when you approach one of them they all turn and look at you with their heavily made up faces. Do they really need to wear that much makeup? Anyway where was I? Oh yes. Girls all start to giggle, though I think it's cackling, no offence to them but most girls are like hags when they laugh. You don't even say anything and they look at you as if they already know. Yes girls are the scariest things on the planet beneath Dementors. Why not Voldemort? Well Voldemort is one of those things I know the outcome. He's predictable. He insults me, my dead family, threatens to kill me, then starts to duel with me, and girls, they are not predictable. They are evil that's why I prefer hanging around with the guys. They are a lot easier to talk to and they don't look like freaky painted dolls. Not that all girls look like freaky painted dolls but some do. _

_Ok that has just been a pointless paragraph but it felt kind of good to ramble about nothing without anyone staring at me as if I'm crazy. I had enough of that with Rita Skeeter's article. It's strange how one minute you are a hero, the next a villain. Can't people ever make up their minds? I have to smile at that. The only people who never change their attitudes towards me are those who I despise. Mostly Snape and the Slytherins and of course my muggle relatives. I can't believe I am actually back here for the summer. I'm allowed to write to my friends thanks to a little warning the order gave to Uncle Vernon but that doesn't mean I'm not their house elf anymore. I still do all the jobs they are too lazy to even attempt. I bet they love it. No one does anything about it. After all I'm a criminal. Not that that stops people from insulting me from afar. Now they are cowards. Are they that scared they can't come up to my face and tell me what they think. Damn wimps. _

_There I go being bitter again. Well I hear Uncle Vernon waking. It's not hard to know when he's a wake, the snoring, which makes the wall shakes, stop, and there is a heavy thud when he rolls out of the bed and the floor creaks under the weight. I have to wonder how anyone can get that fat and how the house can hold him. That's something to ponder whilst I weed the garden today. I hope it's not too hot or too cold because I know I'm stuck out in it. Well I best go. Bye._

_Harry Potter._

Drake smiled as he brushed a hand over the fading pages. It was as if he was getting closer to Harry although Harry was surely dead by now. He smiled as he put the journal aside in the drawer of his bedside cabinet. He didn't want anyone else to read it. For some odd reason he wanted to keep the journal private for the one person in the family who used to be just like him, a freak. Being isolated in one's own family because of something as petty as sexual preference made life harder, made one bitter. How would they be able to understand feeling involved like they belonged anywhere if the one place they are supposed to feel safe and protected more then anywhere else they were belittled, those they had once loved tormented them.

Here, reading a diary, which was many years old, he started to feel as if he truly was part of this family. As if he actually deserved to hold the Potter name no matter what his mother said, no matter what anyone else said. Reading the emotions, the bitterness that his ancestor felt, which was not unlike his own Drake, could not help but feel warmth spread through him. A soft smile pulled at his lips as he looked down at the messy writing of the book. This one person, although they were long gone understood him better then anyone alive did. Not even his friends understood how it felt to be the freak of the family, the black sheep. How it felt to sit there surrounded by people but feel as if you were drowning and no one was helping pull you up, instead they were pushing you down so that they stayed afloat instead. It was suffocating, it was torture and he was finding it hard keeping the bitter smiles off his face when he heard his friends talk about their perfect families.

Sighing Drake turned to look outside of his window. He had not shut the curtains; he liked to feel the moon's ray on his face as he slept. Never liking the dark as a child and his father never wanting him to use a night light his mother had winked at him and kept his curtains open, the moon shining light into the room. Every time the white light warmed his skin he felt the warmth of his mothers arms around him at a time when nothing was forcing a gap between them. A time before Drake understood how petty his mother could be. If only his father were here. Sighing once again he turned back to his pile of papers and books, he would not be able to sleep just yet.

He picked up a letter, which was written on parchment. The writing was the same untidy scribble he had come to associate with Harry. He moved further to the light as the black ink was fading and started to read.

_Hey Blake,_

_How are you? Are you safe? You aren't out there risking your neck are you? Wait why did I ask that, we both know you are. You are not someone who would just sit around that large manor of yours shouting at the servants. Has anything interesting happened? Met any tough creatures that you needed help to defeat. I heard that you, well The Panther (I don't know why you have a code name which is so stupid), fought against a group of vampires. They say you fought ten and I have to wonder if this is just the exaggeration of the rumour mill._

_I hate having to find out things from rumours. I hate having to act as if I don't know you. Blake I miss you. I want to see you again. I want to hold you again, touch you, smell the smoke from the however many cigarettes you are smoking that day. Most of all I want to be able to kiss you again. I don't know why I am so needy, and before you say something it's not because of your charm. You don't have any._

_It's just that with you I could be myself. I don't have to be the hero. With you I can be normal and I can ask for help. I miss that._

_Thanks to you I'm noticing how honest you were. This school is like any other, there are ranks and sadly I'm at the top along with Malfoy. I hate it. I can't have a moment of peace. Just the other day I was photographed in the shower. Can you believe it? _

_That's all the nice stuff out of the way; it's time to get to the serious stuff. Voldemort is becoming more active; my scar is waking me up every night. I'm getting hardly any sleep and I've taken to drinking a dreamless sleep potion every other night. I think I'm becoming addicted but I don't know. I wish you were here to tell me. Also the family of Colin and Dennis Creevey was killed. As soon as everyone found out they looked to me as if I could help them. How? I can't bring any one back from the dead. I have to thank you for teaching me to hide my emotions. If I didn't know how to do that I would have blew up at everyone and told them how I'm no God. Blake I don't know what to do. As the war progresses everyone is looking at me like I'm the answer, like I'm a goddamn saviour who would die for them. I don't want to die for them. I just want to hide. I wish you were here Blake I could do with one of your crap jokes. I suppose I just have to make do with the letters and the photos. Goodbye Blake. Be safe._

_Harry xx_

_P.S I hope you like the photo. I made sure to get all the copies and burn them. Though I kept one especially for you._

Drake's eyes were wide as he finished the letter. He had just read a private letter to Harry's lover. He couldn't believe it, it was something he had only dreamed of when he realised he was gay. He pulled the photo out of the envelope quickly his hands shaking with excitement. If this letter was written when Harry was in school then Drake could see how he had looked like before the war, before he had turned cold and dangerous, before his bitterness had taken over. If the picture was from his schooling then Drake could see how much he looked like his uncle. Taking a deep calming breath he looked down at the photo and his jaw fell. It was the picture of Harry showering. Luckily his back was to the camera but Drake still saw more then he would like of his great-great uncle. If the male in the photo wasn't related to him, he would have liked it but this was family. The shoulders were broad but the basic physique was slight and lean, just how a seeker should be. The skin was bronze and Drake watched as Harry looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening comically before starting to shout at whoever was taking the photo which would have made Drake laugh had he been there. It was something he and his friends would have done as a prank. However he didn't laugh, he paid hardly any attention as most of his attention was focused on Harry's eyes, his own eyes. They were the same unique green, which everyone said were like glittering emeralds no matter how corny that sounded.

He shook his head. His mother had said that those eyes were from Harry's mother and her side of the family and Drake liked the feeling of having something in common with the other freak of the family more then the fact that they both liked men. The warmth grew in heat and a smile blossomed on his face as he held the picture in his hands. This was his uncle; this was the man that was just like him, the man who was like Drake. Turning the photo over just to see if anything had been written on it and he frowned at the writing. It was unfamiliar, he had not seen that writing and he could only assume that it was from the hand of Harry's lover Blake. Seeing how cursive the writing was Drake could see in his minds eye an aristocratic man with a sneer, looking down his nose at all those he deemed beneath him. Letting his eyes roam over the writing he thought that maybe some sarcasm was intended, that maybe Blake was not as perfect as Harry seemed to think

'_Before all Innocence was lost, before he became a whore'_

At the end the writing seemed slightly jerky as if he was angry when he wrote it or at least feeling some strong emotion. Drake felt a stirring of anger in his gut. How dare this stuck up rich man talk about his great-uncle like that, how dare he demean Harry by calling him a whore. If only he could go back in time then he would show how much that statement angered him.

Lying there in the bed of his great-uncle and looking around at the lavish room he could just imagine how stuck up the man must have been to live in a place like this. How the man must have been using Harry, how he had taken advantage of him. He could not see how Harry had been taken in by this man who had called him a whore yet skimming over the letter Drake knew that Harry was in love with him and that the man he was writing about in the letter seemed to be a completely different person then the man that he, Drake, was imagining. Promising to himself he would contain his judgement till he knew everything he turned to read another letter however he was interrupted.

"Drake, its well past midnight go to sleep!" he heard his grandmother shout to him down the hall.

"Ok Gran. Night!" he called in reply casting a longing look towards the pile yet he knew he could not disobey and maybe even alienate the only family member that didn't seem to mind that he was gay, the only family member that actually treated him like family, so he did what his grandmother told him. He put all the letters, pictures and diary in the bedside drawer and then turned off the lamp. He slid down under his covers and fell asleep his eyes closing almost immediately maybe the adventure in the woods had taken more out of him then he knew.

**_A black haired boy with piercing green eyes walked through the corridors of a very familiar school. His fists were clenched and his jaw was set showing that he was a man on a mission and nobody should get in his way. Anyone with half a brain could tell that this black haired boy was angry and it was not a good thing to get the Boy-Who-Lived angry. _**

"_**MALFOY!" the boy roared his eyes flashing as a tall, lanky, white haired boy stopped and turned, a sneer already forming on his lips.**_

"_**What do you want Potter? I don't like being disturbed by an ingrate like you," the boy drawled his arms folded against his chest. He seemed to not realise the danger he was in.**_

"_**Where is it?" Potter growled.**_

"_**Where's what?"**_

"_**You know perfectly well what I'm talking about Malfoy. Where have you put my photo album?"**_

"_**I assure you Potter I know nothing of which you speak," Malfoy drawled again though a faint smirk was twitching at the corners of his mouth.**_

"_**Stop speaking all proper with me. We all know you are an inbred, Neanderthal with no sense of style. So either you tell me where you put my photo album or so help me I'll show you why Voldemort has never beaten me!"**_

"_**Potter if I were you I would shut my mouth when talking about the Dark Lord. He could destroy you in a second!" Malfoy's grey eyes were hard and cold. He had not liked what Potter had said to him and he did not like anyone disrespecting his lord.**_

"_**I don't care! Now tell me where you put my photo album!"**_

"_**I can't seem to remember Potter. I know somewhere high and very dark but apart from that," Malfoy shrugged, "Sorry." He turned and left not in the slightest bit sorry whilst Potter watched him angrily. His hand twitched towards his wand and a smirk played at his cherry lips as he lifted his wand and muttered a spell. Where Draco Malfoy had once stood a white ferret now bounced.**_

"_**I told you, you shouldn't have messed with. You never listen do you Malfoy," Potter hissed, his smirk becoming more blood thirsty before he turned and walked off not paying any attention to the laughter he left behind. He only wanted to find his photo album.**_

Drake bolted upright his breathing erratic. He had just had a dream about Harry a man that had died years ago. Though it seemed more like a memory, which was not possible in the slightest, yet he had dreamt things that he had never known about. It had felt too real for it to be just something of his subconscious. He had felt the hard floor pounding beneath his shoes; he had felt the anger writhing beneath the surface, his hand twitching towards his wand. It was all too real plus the fact that he didn't even know a Malfoy. They had died out decades ago he didn't even know what they looked like until now that was. He held a hand to his chest as his breathing slowly calmed. Falling back against the pillows tiredly he turned to the clock and groaned as he saw the time. 03:45 stood out clear as day in flashing red and Drake knew that he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep.

Sighing, something he seemed to be doing a lot of lately, he turned to his drawer and pulled out a piece of paper, which had very neat and very familiar handwriting. Feeling the stirrings of anger yet again but remembering the promise he had made himself he turned on his bedside lamp and started to read.

_Dear Harry,_(it began)

_First off let me tell you now before you start thinking that maybe you must come and rescue me that I did not fight ten vampires, it was actually twelve and I handled it perfectly fine, I'm not badly injured nor am I dying so please do not worry. You are too transparent. However these rumour mills that you have must start telling accurate information otherwise people would start think I'm getting weak in my old age. Not that I'm any the less handsome as you should know._

_As for the fact that I have no charm, well you're a hypocrite after all was it not that very charm which got you into my bed? I do recall you saying you love me. If that was not my charm then I do not know what got you there unless you have some sexual fantasies that you tell no one about and you are just using me, which I must warn you, if it is true then I will punish you. Thanks for the picture I had some fun with that and it's folded in my wallet so I have it with me always._

_Now I suppose it's onto the serious things. You have to stop taking the dreamless sleep potion Harry. I'm begging you please stop it. I know it's hard at first but please do try. What do you think will happen when you are actually on the battlefield? A battle could happen at any time even when you are sleeping and you would be defenceless and then you would be killed and where would that leave me? It wouldn't look very good that I would have a lover who was an addict and got himself killed due to his own foolish fault. Harry you have got to stop if you do not then I will say now that I would leave you in a second I will not be with anyone who is weak willed. Nightmares make us human if you take that away then you are nothing, you are just a shell of a human you are not worth anything that a normal human would gain._

_As for the school looking towards you it is because you are their beacon of hope, you are the one they trust to keep them safe and they are looking towards you to reassure themselves that they will survive that Voldemort will lose because you continue to live. Harry do not fear it, do not hide from it. Gather the attention, welcome it. Use it to your own advantage if you do not then you will die and there will be nothing any of us can do. The more people you get to follow you the more allies you have to keep the death eaters off your back whilst you go after Voldemort. They might get killed, yes, but if that is needed then so be it. People must die Harry it is the way of life do not fear it, do not run from it. You are the only important person in this war make sure you stay alive._

_Blake_

Drake put the letter down staring out of the window his mind whirring with information. This Blake fought vampires that much was clear and he was very brash about sex and all that accompanied it. However it was the last couple of paragraphs that made Drake confused. Harry loved Blake that much was clear yet for the life of him Drake could not understand why. Blake seemed cruel, manipulative and as if he cared nothing for Harry. Why would anyone want to be with someone like that? He did not understand nor did he want to. Slipping back under the covers Drake lay his head on his pillow and looked out of his window at the storm which was raging, at the clouds which were covering the moon slightly only letting a few rays warm his face. The warmth that he had recently felt had disappeared and could not understand why. They were dead why was this bothering him. Why did he feel as if he wanted to cry because of that letter, because of the words written on the back of the photograph? Biting his lip and pulling his knees up to his chest he buried his head into the pillow but not before the light smell of cigarette smoke blew pass nose. Taking a deep breath he did not wonder about why he could smell cigarette smoke when neither he nor his gran smoked no he just felt the comfort the smell gave him and he finally fell into sleeps gentle embrace a soft smile pulling at his lips. The wisp of smoke continuing to help him sleep, comforting him like the arms of a forgotten lover.

* * *

**_Authors Note: There it's done. Not very long but I just wanted to get it out or I would scream I know I would. I hope it's ok. Please review but no flames. I understand I'm not the best but I'm trying._**


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